Black Obsidian(70)

“Just you.”

“What?”

She didn’t get my joke, so I let it pass. “You’re a hard-ass, sweetheart.”

“Am not. I just think everyone should reach their potential. And that player didn’t.”

“I could picture you as a coach. All your players would hate you.”

“They wouldn’t hate me if they won the finals.”

I wrapped my arm around her shoulders and leaned in close to her. “Have you ever considered leaving charity work for professional sports?”

“God, no. I know where I belong. I make a difference now, but I would never make a difference with these idiots.”

I chuckled for the hundredth time that night. She was one of the few people who could make me laugh. Her sassiness was cute, and her attitude was somehow sexy. I liked it when she was confrontational. I wanted to fight with her, and I hoped she would bring the heat when we did. When I told her she was moving in with me, she resisted me at every step, but I couldn’t take advantage of that at the time. But when she was my sub, I would.

I knew it was just a matter of time before it happened. She slapped me and enjoyed it. I could see the same fire and darkness in her eyes that I carried everywhere I went. It was in there—deep inside. And once she trusted me implicitly, I would pitch the idea to her. Or I would just give her a test drive.

That blow job was an incredible experience, but I wanted her to have a more intense encounter. I wanted to tie her up to my bed, blindfold her, and put her at my mercy. I wanted to take her out of her comfort zone and push her so hard she broke—because she trusted me.

She’d told me things she never told anyone else, and I did the same. It was only a matter of time before the real fun started. We were just days away from the four-week mark, and when that day arrived, I wouldn’t hold back. But I would have to stop myself from tying her up and not letting her go. In that case, she might think I was a little crazy.

“Do you have any plans on Friday?”

“Nope. I’m pretty boring.” She looked at me, her bruised eye covered with makeup. “Why?”

“I thought we could have dinner.”

“Yeah, that sounds nice.”

“And then we can come back here and celebrate.”

Her eyes didn’t change as she stared at me, and I knew exactly why.

“We’ll open some wine and light some candles…” I pressed my lips to her ear and kissed her gently, letting my tongue glide along the shell before releasing a hot breath.

She took a quiet breath, her nipples hardening in her shirt.

“And then you’ll be mine.” My arms tightened around her because I wanted Friday to be now. I wanted to thrust deep inside her and deposit my cum somewhere besides her throat and her tits. I was eager for it, and I knew she was too. No woman sucked dick like that unless they wanted more of it—in different places.

“Maybe we should skip the dinner…”

I could feel the heat from her pussy without touching her. Her chest rose and fell with even breaths, and I knew her excitement was getting to her. She wanted to feel me buried deep inside her, stretching her until her pussy was completely molded around my length. She didn’t want a romantic date.

She just wanted to fuck.

And that was fine by me. “No dinner. Just sex.”

“Okay.”

I cupped her face and pressed a small kiss to her lips, restraining myself from doing anything more. If I laid her back against the cushions, I would lose control and fuck her right then and there.

A quiet moan escaped her lips like she was thinking the same thing. She tucked her hair behind her ear, her eyes lidded with drunken horniness. “I’m gonna go to bed…”

“Yeah, me too.” If I stayed with her any longer, I would jump the gun.

And she wanted to jump the gun too.

“Goodnight.” She wrapped her arms around my neck and hugged me instead of giving me a kiss. I knew she did it to control herself, but the affection somehow felt better. I loved feeling her small arms envelop my body. She hugged me like a teddy bear, her tits pressed against me, her nipples hard.

The desire left my body as I held her, understanding just how small she really was. With skin softer than silk and eyes brighter than the stars, she wasn’t just some woman I was about to sleep with. In a strange way, she was something more. I felt like I was hugging a friend.

My closest friend.





18





Calloway




The following two days were torture.

They passed like quicksand, shifting inside the hourglass but never making any true progress. The seconds passed, but I always thought it was more than it truly was. When I glanced at the clock, only five minutes had gone by, but it felt like five hours.